Incentives
by writergirl75
Summary: An off-hand challenge from Oliver and a teasing response from Felicity lead to a series of conversations and situations that explore what motivates them to keep pushing forward - and one of those things, they quickly learn, is each other.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this started out as something that was going to go in my "Worth of a Kiss" collection, but then it grew three heads and started going in a different direction than I intended, so I've decided to make it a story of its own. This is the first time I've posted a chapter of something without being 100% sure of where the story was going, so fair warning.

* * *

**Incentives**

Chapter One – Midnight Deadline

He walked across the room and snapped his bow into its case.

"Any luck?" Digg asked, looking up from where he was cleaning a gun.

Oliver held up the piece of computer hardware he'd managed to steal from the office of Bruce Kristin, a man they suspected was doing some underhanded bookkeeping for the Triad. It had been in a locked drawer, and he hoped that meant it would tell them something. "Got this."

He moved forward to where Felicity sat at her monitors, and plunked it down on the table. "I need this decrypted, like yesterday."

She blinked up at him, and the look on her face told him he'd done something wrong. It took him a second to process and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Sorry," he said. "I just mean it's important."

"As opposed to all of the unimportant stuff I do for you?" she said raising an eyebrow. There was a bit of a grumble in her tone, but he could tell that, thankfully, she wasn't actually mad. He didn't really have time for mad Felicity.

"There are rumors floating around that the Triad are planning something big, so just get what you can, as fast as you can," he said. Then taking a breath he added, "Please."

"Please is a start," she said, plugging the hard drive into her computers. "Though it wouldn't kill you to throw in an actual incentive once in a while."

This time he did roll his eyes, and then scowled when Digg chuckled and said, "The girl does have a point."

Oliver shook his head. "Fine," he said, looking down at Felicity. "Hack it before midnight and I'll buy you a pony."

She grinned, and just like it always did, the sight of it pushed back some of the darkness in his life. Then she stuck her lip out with fake petulance, "I don't want a pony."

He folded his arms and leaned back against the table. "Okay, then, what do you want?"

"Oh," Digg interrupted. "Go big, girl. Don't forget he's loaded."

She began typing on her keyboard and tilted her head as if considering. "Diamonds might be nice," she said, her voice making it obvious she was teasing.

He couldn't resist. And after all, Digg was right, he was loaded. "Done."

She froze and her eyes went wide as she turned to him. "I was kidding! Really I meant buying us ice cream or something."

Now he did smile. It was just so her. He'd met very few women in his entire life who would petition for ice cream over diamonds. "Ice cream is good too," he said.

He went off to change and clean up. As he came back into the room he checked his watch. It was 11:35 and she was madly at work on the keyboard.

"Any …" he started.

She held up her hand, her voice absolutely serious. "Shush, I have twenty-four minutes."

Oliver looked at Digg who just laughed. "I'm heading home. You'll have to let me know how the great ice cream race works out."

Oliver nodded at his friend as he walked out the door, and then moved to put some of his equipment away. About fifteen minutes later he heard a triumphant, "Yes!" He turned to see Felicity spin around in her chair, her hands raised in triumph. "Eight minutes to spare."

"Nice work," he said, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. He'd thrown out the midnight deadline just for something to say, and was truly impressed that she'd managed to break into the files in less than an hour. He stood up and came to stand next to her. "What did you find?"

She turned back around to face the monitors. "Looks like an electronic ledger of some kind. There are dozens of accounts here, but the most recent payments seem to be to a clothing store in Adams Heights. And unless Mr. Kristin has serious thing for ties, $10,000 seems like a lot of money."

"You have an address?" It was mostly a rhetorical question, Felicity could always find an address. Felicity could probably find the exact coordinates of Hell if he asked her to.

"73 Crimson Park," she said. She called up the store's website, "Looks like they don't open until ten tomorrow."

"Doesn't mean there isn't anything going on there tonight," he murmured. "Especially if they're a front for the Triad." He let out a sigh, "Shouldn't have changed."

She looked up at him. "You want me to call Digg back in, just in case?"

He shook his head. "No, text him a head's up, to be safe, but I think we can handle it."

She smiled a little and he wondered why. "What?" he said.

"You said 'we' could handle it," she said, shrugging a little. "It was nice."

Oliver walked to the cabinet that housed their communication equipment and came back holding both of their earpieces. It was something she normally did, but he felt the need to make a point. As he turned back to her and placed it in her outstretched hand he said, "I go where you send me."

Her smile widened. "Then I should send you to Waterfront Creamery. You owe me ice cream and they have the best sprinkles." Then more quietly she said, "And it would certainly be safer."

"You never know," he said, moving to pull his suit from the display case. "They could be a mob front too."

"Maybe we need to go on an undercover mission and check out that possibility," she replied.

He didn't respond, his brain already shifting to the mission in front of him. An hour later, he'd broken up a meeting between some lackeys from one of the Triad factions and the owner of the clothing store. They had been planning the delivery of something to the store's storage unit, but they were all too low on the Triad organizational chart to know what or when. Still, Starling City would have three less criminals to deal with, and he supposed that was something.

It wasn't until he'd climbed into to bed, very late, that he remembered his conversation about ice cream with Felicity. Tomorrow, he thought, that was one promise he could keep.


	2. One of a Kind

A/N: This was the scene that convinced me to change this to a standalone story. It's about 1,000 words … of Oliver…in a jewelry store. It was either cut it, or give in to the fluff and write a larger story. The fluff won.

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**Incentives**

Chapter Two – One of a Kind

The next day was Saturday, so theoretically it should have meant a day to breathe, or at the very least a day where he could focus solely on dealing with their new Triad problem. Unfortunately, there was an investor in town who insisted on being glad-handed at QC at 11:00. It meant both he and Felicity had to make an appearance at the office, though he was determined to see that she got her well-earned ice cream the minute they were finished. If there was one thing about being a masked vigilante, it usually worked best after dark.

As he was grabbing his watch from the tray on top of his dresser the sight of his diamond cuff-links reminded him of the other part of last night's conversation. Without thinking too much about it, he picked up his phone and dialed Digg's number. "Would it be a problem for us to head out an hour earlier?" he asked.

"Is something wrong?" Digg asked.

"No, I just need to pick something up," Oliver told him.

When he climbed into the back of the car twenty-minutes later Digg looked back at him. "So where we going?"

"Pioneer Plaza," Oliver said, giving him the name of one of Starling City's most high-end shopping areas.

Digg let out half a laugh and looked back at him. "You swap bodies with Thea this morning?"

Oliver gave him a look. "Can we go?"

Digg nodded and negotiated the traffic as Oliver flipped through e-mail on his phone. Felicity had done something miraculous with it so that the e-mails at the top of his inbox actually tended to be the most important ones.

When they reached the two blocks of exclusive shops Digg called back. "Which one?'

"Third one down, right side," Oliver said, putting the phone away. He waited for the moment that Digg realized where they were going.

That moment came about two seconds later. "You are not serious," Digg said, as he looked up at Starling Custom Jewelers.

Oliver grinned. "You're the one who told her to go big," he said, and before Digg could reply he was out of the car.

As he entered the small store filled with dizzying array of well-polished glass cases the sales clerk greeted him instantly. "Good morning, sir." The woman was probably ten years or so younger than his mother, and her eyes went wide as she looked at him. "Oh, hello Mr. Queen. How can I help you?"

The question caused him to freeze and for a couple of long seconds he almost forgot the whole thing. It wasn't that he didn't know how to buy jewelry; he'd been in this same store only two months before buying something for Thea. And, in his pre-island days he'd thrown diamond solitaire earrings at women as his standard way of "apologizing" for acting like an ass. Laurel had gotten two pairs in six months once. That had not gone over well.

And, he realized as he stood there, Felicity certainly deserved better than some sort of recycled, throw-away gesture.

"I'm looking for a gift for a friend," he said finally.

"Very good. Man or woman?" the clerk asked.

"Woman," he said firmly.

The clerk gave him a knowing look. "Of course, Mr. Queen. That kind of friend, I understand."

He opened his mouth to protest and shut it again when he realized that he'd managed to reveal more than he wanted to with just the tone of that one word answer. It implied that… The clerk said his name, and he looked up.

"I'm sorry," he said. "What was that?"

"I asked if you had something particular in mind. Are you celebrating an occasion of some sort?" she asked.

"No, not really," he realized it wasn't a helpful answer. Shaking his head, he said, "Just something to let her know I appreciate her."

"Alright." The clerk said, and there was the tiniest bit of a sigh in her voice. "What about a particular form? Earrings, bracelet, ring?"

"Not earrings," he said quickly, "and not a ring. That's just a little…"

"Too soon?" the clerk finished with a teasing smile.

"Yeah," he said. Then he mentally kicked himself - that was twice now he'd involuntarily responded in a way that suggested Felicity was his girlfriend.

"That does narrow it down a bit," the clerk said, though he could tell she was still expecting more information. When he didn't respond she said. "Perhaps you could describe her for me? Her style or personality?"

Why was this so hard? He hadn't thought it would be hard. Tilting his head he said, "Colorful, bright." He clenched his teeth. "Sweet."

The clerk's smile got more genuine and he wondered why. In a less business like tone she said, "I have a handful of one of kind pieces in today, maybe one of those?"

"Yes," Oliver said. If there was one thing that described Felicity it was one of a kind.

He followed the clerk around to another display case and looked at several pieces before he finally saw the right thing. "That's it," he said, as sure now as he had been uncertain two minutes ago. Who knew there were pink sapphires? And that they could pack ten diamonds into something that was less than an inch in diameter?

As he slid his credit card across the counter he sincerely hoped Felicity never found out exactly how much he paid for this necklace with its small flower pendant. The clerk handed him the flat rectangular box with a smile. "I hope she enjoys it, Mr. Queen."

"So do I," Oliver said.

With a sigh of relief and a surprising sense of anticipation he stuck the box in his coat pocket and walked back outside. Opening the back door, he caught Digg's raised eyebrow.

"Took you long enough," Digg said.

"Just giving you time to finish that crossword puzzle," Oliver shot back. He took a deep breath as they pulled away from the curb. Hopefully, the ice cream would be easier to buy then the diamonds had been.


	3. Worth Saving

**A/N: **This chapter completes one section of the story, but I plan to keep adding to it. Really, I can't believe how much fun it is to write for these two characters.

* * *

**Incentives**

Chapter Three – Worth Saving

"Mr. Queen?"

Oliver blinked and tried to focus on the man in front of him. James Howell had a track record of brilliant investments and a keen interest in the Applied Sciences division. Oliver knew he really should care more about what the man was saying. Instead he found his minding wandering toward the Triad, and to be honest, the woman he could see through the glass over Mr. Howell's left shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Oliver said, sitting ups straight. "Could you repeat your question?"

Howell seemed amused by something, but he said, "I asked if you could tell me about how your division plans to truly enter a market so dominated by Wayne Enterprises. What sets your Applied Sciences division apart from his?"

Oliver resisted the urge to make a face. "We're greener, for a start," he said. "We've put a real emphasis on sustainability and clean energy and have had some promising results. And…" he said pointedly, "being the biggest doesn't always make you the best."

Howell nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer. "My people will get the ball rolling on Monday." He stood up and offered his hand to Oliver, "I've got reservations at what is supposed to be Starling's best steakhouse. Care to join me?"

Oliver shook the man's hand. "No thank you." His eyes drifted past Howell to land on a blond ponytail and a polka dot blouse. "I'm afraid I have other plans."

To his chagrin, Howell turned, following his gaze. "I don't blame you," the man said, his voice sincere.

"Excuse me?" Oliver said, feigning confusion.

Howell turned back to him with a smile. "I married mine you know."

Oliver felt his mouth go dry. "I don't…"

"Twenty-seven years ago," Howell continued. "Of course, they were called secretaries then."

Oliver let out a strangled laugh. "Nice to meet you Mr. Howell."

Howell gave Oliver a nod and grabbed his briefcase. Oliver watched as the man walked out of the office and stopped to say something to Felicity that made her smile. The moment he stepped out the doors, Felicity got up and walked into Oliver's office.

"I like him," she said, walking toward Oliver. "Is he giving you lots and lots of money?"

Oliver nodded. "Looks like it."

"You okay?" she asked, coming to stand just inches from him.

"Yeah, why?" he asked.

"You seem a little distracted." She put a hand on his arm. "If this is about last night, I don't think you should be annoyed with yourself that it's taking more than one evening to figure out this Triad thing, after all…"

"It's not that," he said, his eyes drifting to where her fingers rested on his sleeve. "It's just been an interesting day."

"Good interesting?" she asked. "Or gee-what's-that-growing-in-my-fridge interesting?"

He huffed out a laugh. "The first one, I think."

She smiled and stepped back. "So, are we off to our glamorous basement hideout?"

"Not yet," he said. "We've got something else to take care of first."

"What?" she asked. The fact that she had no clue what he was talking about made him smile.

He didn't answer, but grabbed his coat. "Get your stuff," he said.

He followed her out of his office and to her desk, putting his coat on as he walked. His fingers found the jewelers box still safely tucked in the pocket. He almost gave it to her right then, but part of him wanted to wait until they were out of the office. Most of the time, when they were in these rooms they were playing a part, wearing limited versions of themselves for the benefit of others.

When she went to put on her coat, he stepped forward to help her before realizing it was something he'd never done before. She froze for a moment, obviously surprised, but then slid her arms through the sleeves.

"You don't mind, do you?" he said, as his hands came to rest on her shoulders for the briefest moment.

"No," she said quickly, her voice a little breathy. "Nice to know chivalry isn't dead."

He stepped away and they walked toward the elevators, once they were inside Felicity turned to him. "So I've got a plan to help us with our little Triad issue. I've been thinking about this, and I think the clothing store was an odd place for storage. From what you said the store wasn't particularly large or anything, so there must be some other reason that they would have chosen that location. "

"Okay," Oliver said. To be honest, he'd gone an entire 15 minutes without actually thinking about the mission, and had to pull his brain back on point. "That makes sense."

"So," she said, her words speeding up. "I created a database with all of the locations I could find that were connected to the data on Bruce Kristin's hard drive, and I'm running that against mapping and satellite info to see if I can find other buildings that have similar characteristics – size, location, etc. I know it's a long shot, but I thought it might help narrow down a site we could focus on."

"You did all that this morning?" Oliver said raising an eyebrow.

"No," she said. Then she grinned, "I did all that while you were chatting with Mr. Howell. I did my laundry this morning."

He shook his head. "Good work."

"Thank you," she said. "Now, where are we going? I know Digg's not coming with us, he took off twenty-minutes ago to hang out with the nephew."

Oliver nodded. "Yeah, we're going to have to slum it and take a cab."

She grinned again. "If you really want to slum it we should take the bus."

"Fine," he said, calling her bluff.

"Are you kidding me?" she said. "I am not taking the bus in these." She pointed down at her feet, drawing attention to her strappy, bright red, very-high heels. In his mind heels like that seemed specifically designed to attract attention to the pair of legs above them – and it was working.

Clearing his throat he said, "Cab it is."

He stepped out on the street and was grateful that it took only a couple of minutes to flag one down. When they got in, Oliver leaned forward to the driver. "We need to go to the Waterfront," he said. "Near 50th."

Felicity's look of stunned disbelief was worth the entire trip. "You really are buying me ice cream."

"I am,"he said, keeping his face as serious as he could manage.

For two seconds she didn't respond, she just stared at him. "You don't have to, you know."

"Yes, I do," he said firmly.

"I mean," she shook her head a little and gave him an anxious look. "You don't have to do this just because I made some silly comment last night. It's not like a matter of honor or anything."

"We had a deal," he said, still trying to keep a straight face. "Unless you've changed your mind about the pony."

That finally got her to smile again. "No," she said. "Ice cream is good."

Even though it was Saturday, the cold winter weather ensured that the shops that lined Starling City's small area of downtown waterfront were fairly uncrowded. Oliver paid the driver of the cab and they walked inside. He'd been here a few times as a kid, and it hadn't changed much. It was relatively small, with less than a dozen tables and a bar with stools along the windows that overlooked the water. There were a few families in the shop and one group of teenagers, but Oliver was relieved to see that they were all more interested in what they were doing than in himself and Felicity.

They walked toward the counter and Oliver tilted his head. "You first."

Felicity ordered a hot fudge sundae, with sprinkles, of course, and he told the girl taking their order that he'd have the same thing. Her pierced eyebrow rose as she looked at his name, but thankfully she didn't say anything.

"Mind if we sit over there?" Oliver asked pointing to the stools by the window.

"Not at all," Felicity said, already taking a bite of her ice cream and making a little face of contentment. "I like looking at the water."

They sat down and for a few moments they ate in silence staring out over the water. The sun had come out, making little silver flecks dance across the top of the bay. "You know," she said, licking a drop of hot fudge from the tip of her spoon. "Sometimes I forget how beautiful this city can be."

"Worth saving," he said quietly, watching as she took another bite of ice cream.

She nodded and swallowed. "Absolutely." Then she turned to look at him. "This was nice of you, Oliver."

He shook his head. The statement got under his skin, and it took a minute for him to figure out why. Leaning his head toward her, he said quietly, "You help me rescue this city every night. Ice cream seems like a pretty small gesture in comparison."

"This hot fudge may be great, but it isn't the ice cream that makes this nice," she said looking over at him, her eyes warm with an emotion he wasn't quite ready to name.

"Oh yeah?" he said, unable to look away.

She swallowed and looked down. "It's nice spending time with you." Then she shook her head, "Which seems ridiculous since there are times when we're together 18 hours a day, but…"

"I know what you mean," he said, quietly.

She looked back up at him, and he could see a delicate, lovely hope in her face. "Do you?"

He knew that question held more meaning than their current conversation, and he took a deep breath. Still, at this moment he could not bear to crush that hope, whatever the consequences. "Yeah, I do. I like spending time with you too."

Her answering smile was a sight so stunning that it almost seemed unreal. "Now that's an incentive better than diamonds."

He couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling. Reaching in his pocket he said, "Good to know. But…" He placed the box in her hand. "I think you need some anyway."

She stared down at the box, and for several seconds she didn't move. Finally she whispered his name. "Oliver."

He reached out one hand and supported hers, using his other to flip open the box. "I told the woman…" he cleared his throat, "I told the woman at the store I wanted a gift that would let you know I appreciated you."

"Oh," she said, reaching up to run a finger over the pendant. "I shouldn't accept this."

"Why the hell not?" he whispered roughly, surprising even himself with the intensity of the question. He realized his hand had dropped from hers and was resting on her knee.

She let out a little laugh, and looked up at him. His hand tightened on her knee, almost involuntarily, when he saw that her eyes were wet. "It's too much," she said finally.

"It's really not," he said in a steely tone. Then feeling uncertain, he said. "You do like it, don't you?"

She gave him an exasperated look, and sputtered, "Are you serious? It's gorgeous."

"Good," he said, reaching to pull the necklace out of the box. "Turn around."

To his relief she spun so her back was toward him. He reached around her, and then fastened the clasp at the back of her neck, feeling the soft brush of her ponytail against his hand.

She moved to face him, and her hand came up to touch the small sparkling object that fell just above the neckline of her blouse. "How does it look?" she said, her voice a little shaky.

He looked up at her. "Beautiful."

Their eyes held for an extremely long moment, and Oliver wondered exactly what he would have done if they hadn't been in a room full of people. Maybe when this current crisis was over he could see if he finally had enough guts to find out.

Now that was an incentive.

At the moment he settled for putting a hand on the back of her chair and letting his thumb trace a pattern against the fabric of her coat. He pointed to her sundae. "You should finish that before it melts."

She gave a little nod and turned to the ice cream. When she was raising the last bite to her mouth she said. "I suppose we have to go back to saving the city now."

"Yeah," he said. "But I think I might have to keep finding ways to motivate you."

She choked a bit on the ice cream and her cheeks grew an even brighter shade of pink. "I'm looking forward to that," she said.

He gave her a teasing grin. "Just don't expect diamonds every time you do something brilliant, even I'm not that loaded."

She laughed, and that sound carried them out the door of the ice cream shop and back to the work they shared.


	4. I'll Tell You Something

A/N: So this is a classic "John Diggle steals the show" kind of chapter, and why the secondary genre label on this story is friendship. But don't worry – there's plenty of Olicity goodness going on inside Oliver's head. Also, I know I tend to post in short chapters, sorry about that, it just works best for making progress on this even if my schedule is crazy.

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**Incentives**

Chapter Four - I'll Tell You Something

He started looking for the necklace. She didn't wear it every day, but she did wear it at least nine times over the next two weeks. One time she'd caught him looking at it, at her, and had touched it and smiled at him. They'd been in a meeting in the conference room with people from the global management team and he'd missed at least three of the ten points the presenter had been making about possible investment in India. He didn't care.

Partly he looked for the necklace because it gave him something more pleasant to think about than the frustratingly slow progress they were making with the Triad issue. Felicity's clever little program came back with ten possible buildings, and he'd managed to check out only half of them when they'd been distracted by a gang of thugs who were attacking women throughout the city.

At first Oliver had protested the change of focus.

"Let the cops handle that," he had said. "They'll catch them eventually; it sounds like this group is sloppy."

Felicity had given him a look. "And what if the next woman was Thea or your mother?"

His overly visual brain had provided images to go with Felicity's comment, and had, uncomfortably, supplied a third image of Felicity being tracked down some dark alley. Misreading the look of apparent fury on his face she said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep, it's just that those victims are someone's sister or mom too."

"You're right," he'd said, grinding out the words, and she'd blinked at him in surprise. "Let's take care of it."

Unfortunately, the attackers weren't quite as sloppy as Oliver had imagined, and it had been four days of work to track all of them down. By then, whatever leads Felicity's list of locations might have given them had gone cold. As such, Oliver had been threatening low level gang bangers for almost a week now, with very little to show for it.

Tonight hadn't been any different. He came back and slammed his quiver onto the table.

"You okay?" Digg asked.

Oliver swore under his breath. "Nothing, Digg. Not one hint or rumor of whatever's going down. I'm starting to think I imagined the whole thing."

"I suppose it's possible that Bruce Kristin was just bragging at that fundraiser," Digg said, speaking of the night Oliver had first overheard the guy talking. "But he was bribing that store owner and your instincts are usually pretty good about this stuff."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Did you just say something nice to me?"

Digg gave him half a smile. "Don't get used to it."

Digg's humor took the edge off of his anger, but it did nothing to soothe Oliver's impatience or exhaustion. He slumped into a chair, shifting his shoulder. He'd used it to get through a door tonight, and the muscles were reminding him about the fact that there was as much scar tissue as anything in that particular spot – annoyed scar tissue. "It's just … frustrating."

Digg eyed him. "Don't get me wrong, man, but you seem a little extra keyed up about this one."

Oliver looked up and let out a tight sigh. "And I shouldn't be keyed up about organized crime?"

His friend shrugged. "We've been fighting the Triad since day one, we'll probably be fighting them until the day we give this up or get put in a grave. I'm just a little unclear as to why this particular case has you so wired."

Digg had a fair point, and Oliver paused, trying work through his thoughts. He was really good, too good maybe, at shutting off parts of himself in order to get the job done. It wasn't exactly healthy, and it was why it honestly took him a minute to remember that moment in the ice cream shop with Felicity. The moment he'd told himself that when this particular mess was over, maybe…

Digg whistled. "You solving the problems of the universe in there?"

Oliver blinked, then rolled his head to one side. He wasn't sure he was ready for this conversation, but Digg obviously expected an answer. "I guess I just thought that if we got past this job…" he stood up, pacing across the room, "...that maybe there might be a minute to think about something else." Noticing he still had his bow in his hand, he went over and clipped it into the case.

Then he froze, realizing that if he and Digg were alone, someone was missing. "Where's Felicity?"

"Speaking of 'something else?'" Digg asked with a speculative look.

Oliver didn't deny it, but he was annoyed that Digg hadn't answered his question. "Seriously, where is she?"

"She just went to get some dinner," Digg said patiently. "I made her."

Oliver looked at his watch; it was nearly midnight. "She hadn't eaten yet?" Thinking back he'd left her at the office to go home and have dinner with his family, and when he'd arrived at the foundry she was already at her monitors. He wondered how many times she'd done something like that – given up some basic bit of life for the sake of the work. That wasn't a habit of his he wanted rubbing off on her.

Digg folded his arms and leaned back against the table. "She thought she had some new angle on the whole locational database thing, but after she worked on it all that time…" now it was his turn to sigh. "Apparently you weren't the only one having a frustrating evening."

"Where was she headed at this time of night?" Oliver asked. He didn't like the thought of her out alone so late. In fact he was surprised that Diggle had let her go.

"That diner on Lincoln - she didn't want me to go with her," Digg said, answering Oliver's unspoken criticism. "But I made her promise to text me when she made it."

"Has she?" Oliver asked.

Digg shook his head. "She left about two minutes before you got here." Then he paused, looking pointedly at Oliver, "You could probably almost catch up with her on the bike - especially the way you drive."

Oliver hesitated. He wondered if she'd even welcome his company in the mood he was in.

Dig unfolded his arms and stood up, walking toward him. "I'll tell you something, Oliver. This thing we do…there's never just going to be time for anything. So if something is important you're going to have to make time for it."

Oliver took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. Whatever else she was or wasn't, Felicity was definitely important. He looked back down at Digg. "I go I'll see if I can find her."

"Good choice," Digg said, his face serious. "I think, tonight, she needs a pep talk even more than you do."

Oliver gave him a look. "So why didn't you give her one?"

Digg sucked in a breath and moved toward where his jacket lay over one of the tables. "Somehow, I don't think I have quite the impact on her that you do."

Oliver looked away, hoping Digg wouldn't see the expression on his face at that comment. Then picturing Felicity upset, and out alone in the dark, he hurried to change his clothes.


	5. Upping His Game

A/N: So I'm feeling a little worn out by this chapter. I feel like there still isn't enough plot here and I'm worried that the romantic pace that I find deliciously deliberate is one that others will find glacially slow. I've been over this thing about ten times now, so I'm just going to post it already and hope someone enjoys it besides me.

* * *

**Incentives**

Chapter Five – Upping His Game

Oliver didn't quite catch up with her. As he parked the bike and moved toward the diner, he could see her sitting in a booth near one of the windows. She was looking out into the dark; her shoulders slumped in fatigue and an anxious expression on her face. He felt a determination to erase that look, and caught himself just staring at her for a long moment.

As he pushed through the glass front door he was still looking at her. A waiter came up to him, and noticing the direction of his gaze asked, "You with her?"

Oliver blinked at the question, but simply nodded.

"Wouldn't leave a hottie like that alone too long, if you know what I mean," the kid said, eyeing Felicity. "I was about to make my move."

The kid was an eighteen-year-old beanpole with the "before" face of an acne commercial, zero threat, but Oliver still had a brief imaginative flash of breaking his nose. He let out a sigh. "Can I sit down?"

"Sure, dude," the waiter said.

Oliver walked toward Felicity but she didn't look up until he was sliding into the booth across from her. She frowned as she looked up at him, seeming confused. "Oliver?"

"Hey you," he said softly, setting his helmet on the seat next to him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. Her voice, normally so bright, was flat and tired. Digg was right, she seemed genuinely rattled, and Oliver felt a knot of anxiety in his gut.

He found the energy to smile just a little. "Heard you're night was even worse than mine."

She shrugged, her hands twisting a napkin. "I can't find anything to help you," she whispered, and there was real pain in it. "I'm the one who convinced you to let the Triad thing go for a week, and now…"

"Felicity," he said, his voice holding a note of pleading. He leaned forward putting his elbows on the table. "You convinced me to do the right thing. What's happening now isn't your fault."

"But I'm supposed to…" she cut the sentence off as the waiter approached them. He noticed her hands still turning and pulling in agitation.

"So you guys know what you want?" the kid said, taking an order pad out of his pocket,

Oliver looked at Felicity. She shrugged. "Maybe I'm not hungry. I'll just…"

Oliver reached out and put a hand over her nervously moving fingers. "She'll have a club sandwich, extra bacon with a salad instead of fries and I'll have a cheeseburger with everything."

"To drink?" the kid asked. He was not so subtly ogling Felicity and Oliver grit his teeth.

"Coffee, decaf, for both of us," Oliver replied, tipping his head to grab the kid's attention and giving him a hard look.

The kid swallowed and nodded nervously. "Right away sir."

After the waiter left, Felicity said, "You just ordered for me." She sounded surprised, and her voice, while still quiet, seemed calmer.

"I did," he said. He tilted his head. "Did I get it right?"

Finally, finally, she smiled. It was a tired smile, but seeing it he found he could breathe a little easier.

"Tonight I would have gotten fries," she said, reaching up to rub her eyes behind her glasses.

"I can call him back," Oliver said, gesturing toward the waiter. "He's pretty fond of you."

"What?" she said, sounding startled.

"Oh yeah," Oliver said, nodding lazily. "He told me. Apparently my arrival interrupted his plans to make a move."

Her smile got bigger. "So you rescued me again."

She looked down then and Oliver realized his hand still rested on hers. Two impulses came at the same time, one to pull back, and the other to actually take her hand in his. For a long time he'd been listening to that first instinct. The one that told him to keep his distance, keep her safely at arms-length, that doing so was the right choice for both of them. But tonight he was just so tired of it all.

Very deliberately he reached down and pulled the tortured napkin out of her grip, then wrapped his fingers around her smaller hand. It was cold, and he ran his thumb across the tip of each finger, watching the contrast between her bright fingernails and his rougher skin. He heard her breath catch and looked up. She was staring at him and he saw a hint of uncertainty in her face.

"This okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Definitely." There was a slight tremor in her voice and it sent a rush of heat through him. He nearly laughed. He'd never imagined he could be this affected by just holding a woman's hand. Of course he usually vaulted past the whole hand holding stage and went straight to…

Cutting off his thoughts, he kept her hand but sat back. "So, how many times in the last two weeks have you skipped dinner?"

"So Digg's ratting me out now?" she said, rolling her eyes. Oliver gave her a hard look.

"I haven't skipped dinner," she protested, but she looked away.

"How many times have you eaten dinner after midnight then?" he asked pointedly.

She squirmed a little in her seat. "Five or six." When he let out a frustrated hiss, she held up her other hand. "It's not on purpose or anything, I mean you know I love to eat. I've just thought that I could get things started, computer wise, at the foundry and then take care of it. But then you show up and head out, and I don't like the thought of leaving with you…and well, the pizza guy doesn't deliver to secret hideouts."

Oliver couldn't help but grin a little - a smile and a long babbly sentence, his Felicity was coming back. He made his expression serious. "Not again, okay?"

She eyed him. "And if I behave what do I get?"

"What?" he said.

She shrugged. "Well, you said you'd try to motivate me, and if I'm promising to be a good girl and eat my vegetables, what do I get?"

He wondered if she had any clue just how freaking adorable she was, especially when she got bold and a little flirty like this. He sat forward his eyes locking on hers. "I don't know. What do you want?"

There was an edge of nervousness in her voice, but she didn't look away. "More of this."

"This?" he pressed; though he had a feeling he understood what she was saying.

"You - holding my hand - at the end of the day," she said. She spoke the words slowly, her face growing more serious, and when she finished he saw she was holding her breath.

He felt all the broken, haunted bits of his personality rear up. What if he hurt her? What if he didn't deserve this? What if it got in the way of the work he needed to do? What if… But Felicity was waiting, her whole warm heart right there in her eyes, and that suddenly mattered more.

"I'll try," he said, swallowing hard. "But I'm not sure I'm going to be very good at this."

She squeezed his hand. "You're doing pretty well tonight."

Just at that moment Oliver saw the waiter headed toward them with their coffee. Taking a deep breath he tilted his head toward the kid. "My turf was being threatened. I had to up my game."

That made her laugh, and her eyes sparkled holding his gaze as the waiter set down the coffee and disappeared again. "Your turf, huh?" she said, just an edge of irritation in her voice.

He nodded slowly. "I think so. Yeah."

She shook her head and picked up the coffee mug with her free hand. "You are arrogant, Oliver Queen."

"And you like it," he shot back. His shoulder suddenly protested the angle that he was sitting at and he shifted, rolling it to try and loosen the muscles.

All teasing fell out of her face and she let go of his hand. "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head. "Just sore – used it as a battering ram."

Felicity frowned. "Why didn't you have Digg put some of that magical goo on it?"

He grimaced and narrowed his eyes. "Because it's just muscle, not a big deal."

"You have me do it when I'm there," she pointed out.

He shook his head sheepishly. She was going to have half his secrets out of him in one night; at least the ones that had to do with her. "Speaking of incentives."

As she realized what he meant her cheeks turned pink. "Oh."

"One word, that's all I get?" he said, grinning at her.

She coughed a little and straightened in her chair. "I'll make sure I'm there next time you're hurt so I can take care of that for you," she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact and utterly failing.

"I'm sure it will still hurt tomorrow night," he teased.

"Good," she said quickly. Then she frowned, "I mean not good that you're hurt…just you know, good."

He tilted his head back against the bench relaxing for a moment, stopping just short of letting his eyes close. "It will be good to have a reason to come back tomorrow. I think there was about ten seconds tonight when I was ready to give it all up."

"Me too," Felicity said. "Only for me it lasted more like an hour."

He looked up. "Can I take some credit for changing your mind?"

"Absolutely," she responded. "Absolutely."


	6. Oliver's Turn

A/N: Thank you all so much for your encouragement on the last chapter! I was having a crappy day and that spilled out into feeling insecure about the writing. So all of those nice thoughts really helped. I also have to say if I had known I was going to create a longer story I probably wouldn't have tried to attempt to write it all in Oliver's point-of-view, it's definitely been a challenge, but hopefully it's working.

* * *

**Incentives**

Chapter Six – Oliver's Turn

Oliver leapt away from Digg's attempt to sweep his legs out from under him and moved to put the other man in a choke hold. Digg broke free in only seconds, something he probably wouldn't have been able to do even six months ago. There was no doubt about it, as far as hand-to-hand fighting went Digg was becoming more his equal every day. That was a good thing, because while sparring helped Oliver vent his frustration he wasn't wild about beating up his best friend.

"I got it!" Felicity said, her gleeful voice echoing through the foundry

Oliver turned his head, and then grunted as Digg took advantage of his lack of focus to clock him across the jaw. It wasn't a full powered hit, but it still rattled his teeth. Oliver leveled a dirty look at his friend.

Digg held up his hands with a half-smile. "You're just lucky I pulled it at the last second."

Oliver tilted his head in acknowledgement and walked toward where Felicity sat, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

"What have you got?" Oliver asked, resting a hand on her shoulder. Her skin was cool against the damp heat of his hand.

She looked up at him, her face full of excitement. "An actual lead, thank you very much."

"What? Where?" he demanded.

She didn't answer right away and he realized she was staring at him - not entirely at his face either. He wasn't a moron; he knew it wasn't the first time she'd checked him out. While he normally tried to ignore it, given the shift between them in the last couple of weeks he found himself smiling. "Felicity," he said softly, moving his hand so his fingers grazed her skin. "The lead?"

"What?" she blinked. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head. "Right, sorry. The police reported an abandoned delivery truck about two blocks from one of the buildings on the original database list. They couldn't trace the truck but I did."

"It's linked to the Triad," he guessed.

She gave him a beaming smile, gesturing to the monitors. "Yep, and the location of the truck and the location of the clothing store have one important thing in common. They are both within a one mile radius of Starling Telecom's biggest operations building."

"Okay," Oliver said, frowning. "Tell me why that's important?"

She let out a little huff of impatience. "That facility is vital to ninety percent of the land line phone and internet service in Starling City. If we're assuming that the Triad was storing some kind of destructive device, they could take that all out in one hit."

He took a step back, trying to think it through. "So the Triad wants Starling City unplugged? Why?"

"I'm assuming it is one piece of a larger picture," she said. "But them wanting to cut off a major avenue of communication can't be a good thing."

Digg came to stand next to them. "And," he said to Oliver. "If the truck was just abandoned it means whatever they're planning is probably going down tonight."

Oliver nodded and turned toward where his bow and suit waited for him. "I'll change," he said to Felicity. "See if you can find anything else."

When he came back fifteen minutes later Felicity's smile had been replaced with a serious look. "What is it?" he said.

She stood up and came toward him; he could see the worry in her eyes. "Oliver, the police unit investigating that truck just called in a hazmat team."

That made him stop. "Why?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, it sounds like they're trying to keep a lid on what's happening, maybe to prevent panic. If I went down there in person I could probably get more information."

"No," he said, biting off the word and reaching out to grab her arm. He tried to rein in the wave of fear created by the idea of Felicity and hazmat in the same city let alone the same spot. He forced his voice to sound calm. "Stay here and keep an eye on everything. You don't need to put yourself in the middle of that."

"You're going to," she pointed out. Then she turned and he saw that Digg had pulled on his jacket and was in the process of holstering a gun. "And so, apparently, is Digg."

Oliver clenched his teeth. He didn't want Digg in the middle of this either. Then he paused and took a long breath. They were his partners, and this was what they did. "Digg," he said. "I want you to take the car and hang back at the five mile mark. If there is some sort of biological or chemical agent, we need to make sure that one of us can be there to help warn the city."

Digg opened his mouth to protest, but in the end, Oliver knew that his friend would realize the practicality of what Oliver said.

Digg nodded heading toward the stairs. "Alright, I'll head out and let you know where I am." He paused briefly, glancing at Felicity and giving Oliver a look that he couldn't quite interpret. It was either, "Hurry up and say something" or "Hurt her and I'll kill you" or more likely some confusing combination of the two.

When Oliver turned back to look at Felicity he could see a hint of tears in her eyes. He swallowed. "Hey," he said, running his hand down her arm and taking her hand in his. "I really do need you to stay here and keep trying to get more information. Protecting you is just a perk."

She gave him a sad smile. "I'll do everything I can." Her hand tightened in his. "As long as you promise to do everything you can to get back here in one piece."

He stepped a little closer, his eyes locking to hers. "And what do I get if I do?" he said his voice just above a whisper.

The smile finally reached her worried eyes and she took a shaky little breath. "What do you want?"

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her forehead, and her arms slipped around his waist holding him tight. "I'll tell you when I get back," he said, his lips moving against her hair. Then closing his eyes against the swell of emotion that threatened to swamp him, he quickly stepped away and headed out into the night.


	7. Try to Stay With Me

**Incentives**

Chapter Seven – Try to Stay With Me

He'd faced a lot of miserable difficulties in the last few years, but dealing with an unknown weapon that could be invisible had to among the worst. The only thing that was keeping him calm were the voices in his ear – Digg who was only five minutes away and Felicity, who though quieter than usual, was obviously doing her best to be calm and reassuring.

"I've managed to tap into the cell phones of Lance and five others who are at the scene of the abandoned truck," she said. "The hazmat team is there, I should have more for you soon."

He allowed himself the tiniest smile. "Nice work, keep me posted."

As his bike approached the Starling Telecom building he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Through the glass front doors he could see two board looking security guards sitting at a front desk. It wasn't until he circled the building that he spotted an open loading bay door at the back of the building. It was almost unnoticeable given that the security light above it had been shattered.

He opened his mouth to report back but froze when Felicity said, "No, no, no, no, no."

"Felicity?" he said. There was an unnerving moment of silence. "Talk to me."

"Oliver, two cell towers on the west side of the city just went down. The police think they've been sabotaged and…"

"They aren't just trying to shut down the Telecom Building," Digg interrupted. "They're trying to shut down communications for the whole city."

"And in other horrific news," Felicity said, an edge in her voice. "The hazmat team says the problem with the truck is radiation. There's a strong chance we're dealing with some kind of dirty bomb."

Oliver closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. "I've found where they entered the building. I'm going in."

"Watch your back, man," Digg said, his tone grave.

"Be careful," Felicity added, her tone pleading.

Oliver forced as much confidence into his voice as he could find. "I promise."

He vaulted the distance from the ground to the empty loading dock. It was dark inside, but he could see lights somewhere ahead that looked like flashlight beams.

There was an odd click in his earpiece. "Felicity?" he whispered. Nothing. "Digg," he tried – still nothing. Swearing quietly he forced himself to move forward.

He was across the large loading area when there was another click, and a very welcome sound filled his ear. "Sorry about that," Felicity said. "Another cell tower went down, I had to reroute."

"Try to stay with me," Oliver said, not caring the tone he used was less than professional.

"Of course," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

He moved quietly down a hallway until he could see four armed men. Two of them were carrying an odd barrel like metal container between them, while the other two were obviously there to serve as guards.

Oliver notched an arrow, and had the two guards down, an arrow in each leg, in a matter of seconds. The other two quickly put down the device they were carrying and reached for their weapons. Oliver had to dive into a doorway to avoid a spray of automatic weapon fire.

Ducking around the corner he threw a flechette and felt gratified as it impaled the trigger hand of one of the men causing him to drop his weapon. Oliver dived out and rolled low, coming up to catch the fourth man across the face with one end of his bow. The man's gun went flying, but not before he got his finger on the trigger again. Oliver winced as a bullet ricocheted off a nearby metal door and cut across the flesh just above his right knee.

Angry, he landed another hit across the man's jaw, knocking him out cold. Drawing another arrow he turned to face the man who was still cradling his impaled hand. "Is the device activated?" he snarled.

The man looked at him with wide eyes and shook his head. "It's remotely triggered, we've got about ten minutes before it blows."

Ten minutes would hardly have been enough time for this guy to be clear of the bomb, and Oliver suspected he hadn't known what he was really carrying. "Run," Oliver ordered, packing that word with every bit of malice he could muster.

The man took off with satisfying speed, and ignoring the two men who still lay conscious, bleeding and cursing on the ground, he spoke to Felicity. "You get that?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "It would have to be relatively short range, and with the way they're taking out the towers a direct radio link like a walkie-talkie."

"How do I stop it?" he asked.

He heard that odd click again and felt a burst of panic. "Felicity?"

All that met him was silence, and he knew they must have lost their connection again. He moved toward the barrel shaped container and saw clamps holding down the lid. Moving slowly he undid the clamps and lifted the top free of the container. Inside was a smaller canister which had another component strapped to it. He grabbed one of the nearby discarded flashlights and could see that the second component was a black display panel with what he was assuming was some kind of plastic explosives strapped to it.

He had no idea what to do. If there was ever a time in his life that he had fully appreciated his tech-savvy partner on a practical level, it was in that moment.

Just as worry was starting to crowd his brain he heard another click. "Oliver!" she said, sounding as panicked as he felt.

"I'm here," he said. He quickly described the bomb to her. "What do I do?"

"We're down to one cell tower now," she said, her words crowded together. "Luckily it sounds like a simple device. If you can get the two pieces disconnected and get the canister away from the rest of the device before the signal is sent, it should be a fairly – "

Another click, she was gone.

Oliver swore again. If that was the last conversation he was going to have with Felicity Smoak in this life then there was absolutely no justice in the universe. He swallowed hard and pulled a knife from one his pockets. He took the briefest second to focus on the look on her face when she'd first seen the necklace, the feeling of her hand in his, and what it had felt like to finally hold her. Then he reached for the device, and began to cut.


	8. I'm Here

A/N: So you can thank President's Day for the quick update. The story could end here, though I do have some ideas for possibly expanding it, so we'll see what happens. Hope this makes up for the cliffhanger. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Incentives**

Chapter Eight – I'm Here

He ached all over, which wasn't new, but still sucked. There was a buzzing in his ears, a fiery pain in his right leg, and in general he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. His mind raced to figure out how he'd ended up like this and then he remembered – bomb.

He jerked, forcing his eyes open, struggling to sit up. He felt gentle hands against the bare skin of his chest and heard a noise as if it came from a long distance. Then his eyes finally focused on Felicity's worried face. She looked exhausted. He could see her lips moving, shaping his name. That was the noise, his name, but muted and muffled by the ringing in his ears.

"The bomb?" he asked, blinking when he realized his own voice had the same sound.

A small smile broke over her face, and the sight of it took the edge off his panic.

"You stopped it." He saw the words as much as he heard them. One of the hands on his chest trailed up to his shoulder, and it was a relief to have at least one pleasant physical sensation to go with all that pain.

"Rest," she mouthed. "Please."

He let her push him back down and focused on the feeling of her fingers in his hair until the pain gave way to the exhaustion.

* * *

When he woke the second time, things were much clearer. Though there was still an annoying ringing pressure in his right ear, his hearing seemed more normal. He recognized Felicity's voice a slight distance away.

"That's right, detective, you'll need to replace the circuit boards in the towers with the ones you were sent," she said, an edge of impatience in her voice. "They've been specifically programmed to help you undo the damage caused by the Triad."

Carefully he turned his head, and saw a strange sight. Felicity leaned over her monitors with an old telephone handset in her hand. There was some sort of device clamped over the receiver and the long black cord was twisted around her body. In spite of still feeling like utter crap, he couldn't help but smile.

"Just do it," she growled, slamming down the phone. Then, grumbling, she picked up the handset and disentangled herself.

"You're starting to sound like me," he said, his voice grating against his dry throat.

She looked up. "Oliver!" her smile was bright and utterly perfect. "You're awake." She walked toward him, her hands moving nervously. "It's good I sounded like you because I was pretending to be you. You know, Arrow you, not Oliver Queen you."

It was so good to listen to her voice, especially since he'd wondered if he'd ever hear it again. The thought pulled some his foggy memories into place. He'd cut the bomb apart as Felicity instructed and then run with the piece containing the explosives. He'd been three blocks away on his bike when the control panel had lit up, indicating the detonation signal had been sent. Knowing he had just minutes he raced to docks…that's where his memories dissolved into a series of incomprehensible sensations – a bright flash of light, Digg's face, the cold mental of the table on his skin.

"How close was I?" he asked as Felicity came to stand next to him.

Her smile fell away and he saw a haunted expression fill her eyes. "Fifteen yards…if you hadn't ducked down behind the bike, or the bomb hadn't made it into the water…" she shook her head, choking on the last word. Her hand came out to touch his arm, fingers trailing down it as if to make sure he was really there.

When her touch reached his hand, he flipped it over, tangling his fingers with hers. "I'm here," he said.

She nodded quickly and spoke again, the words stumbling over themselves, revealing her anxiety. "The police recovered the canister two hours ago. There was radioactive material in it just like they feared. If you hadn't stopped it, a third of the city might have been contaminated."

He tried to take a deep breath and grimaced. "How did you find me if all the cell towers were down?"

She looked at the floor and flushed slightly. "I might have hacked and re-tasked a military satellite."

Letting out a gravelly chuckle, he forced himself into a sitting position. "That's my girl."

Her head came up and her eyes locked with his. Smiling at her, he watched the flush on her cheeks deepen.

Moving carefully, he pushed himself forward so he could sit on the edge of the table. When she would have backed away to give him room, he held on to her hand, adjusting his position so that his legs fell on either side of where she stood.

"Where's Digg?" he asked softly.

"At Q.C.," she said, her voice a little breathy. "Putting a cover story in place to explain why you're not going to be at work for a few days."

"Good," he said. He looked down at their joined hands and copied the gesture he'd made the other night, sliding his thumb slowly over each of her fingers. "Does that mean I can have my incentive now?"

She smiled, a sparkle entering her eyes as her other hand came up to gently touch the bandage above his knee. "I think the deal was you in one piece," she said, her voice teasing. "I'm not sure this qualifies."

"Technically everything is still attached," he pointed out, moving his face closer to hers. "And I did save the city."

"True," she agreed, and she took a quick little breath that he loved. "So, I guess the question is – what do you want?"

Giving her what he hoped was his most charming smile he sighed, "It's a really long list…but let's start with this." Slowly he leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers.

He held the contact for a long moment and then pulled back just a fraction, lightly moving his lips back and forth against hers until she let out a gasp. Deepening the kiss, he reached around her, his calloused fingers catching against the silk of her blouse as he spread his hand across her lower back, pulling her closer. She tasted so sweet, and it was that sweetness that allowed him to keep a degree of control over the sensations that flooded him.

He nipped just once at her upper lip before leaning back and resting his forehead against hers. "Now that's motivation."

She let out a whispery laugh and tucked her head against his shoulder. She went to put her arms around him, and he flinched at a flare of pain from his ribs.

"Sorry!" she said, genuinely upset. She tried to pull back, but he held her firmly, reaching down to move her hand to a less sensitive spot.

"Stay right here," he said. The clean smell of her hair and her breath coasting over the hollow of his throat brought him a feeling of calm he wasn't sure he'd ever experienced.

If this was the reward for saving Starling City, he was glad the job was his.


End file.
